ASMO #3
But a cambion on the grounds…I’ve only ever seen them in the basement of our manor. And in the underworld. They are not something that most know about. They are nightmares, stories told to scare children. But they, like most nightmares, are real.
“Luca,” I say. “It was a cambion.”
The deer hybrid stiffens. “You’re certain?”
I nod. “Three of them.”
Luca demands that Mae tell him what happened, as if she’s someone to be ordered around. And damnit, she does it. The burn on her forearm is still bright and angry.
A healer arrives and Elle points to Marik. I want to yell at everyone here. I step in front of my brother. “Mae has a burn on her arm. Can you look at that first?”
Mae scowls. “No. I’m okay. Look at Marik first, please.”
I shoot her a look, but she matches it. Fine.
If she wants to be stubborn and walk around with a hand-shaped burn on her forearm, she can be my damn guest. I move out of the way from the healer’s path and stand beside Mae again.
I should’ve stood by the wall. I need to stop listening to my instinct to be close to her.
That is only going to strengthen this need inside of me. Or maybe it will make it go away. That’s what I’ll tell myself. Giving in will make it go away faster. It will satisfy the itch I always get when I’m interested in a woman. I get curious, I satisfy my curiosity, and then I move on.
That’s all that needs to happen here.
The fact that it’s the High Queen shouldn’t make a difference.
“He’ll be fine,” the healer says. “He was just knocked out. It’s better to wait until he wakes naturally, which should be soon.”
“What of the cut on his forehead?” I ask. How did he get it? I want to demand. Marik is a good fighter. How did someone land something on him?
“I would imagine he was knocked out, then taken to wherever he was kept. I’m assuming his head probably bumped against something in the process. Although it looks bad, it’s superficial. I can heal it, though, if you’d like.”
Maybe he was overwhelmed by cambions and then something else knocked him out. I dip my head. “Thank you.”
She heals the cut and asks Mae to take a look at her arm. I tilt my head, ready for Mae to deny the healer. But to my relief, she doesn’t.
I guide her to the couch, giving into the urge to place my hand on the small of her back. I sit beside her, my leg pressing against hers. Every instinct in my body is telling me to pull my leg away. Every instinct in my body is daring me to keep it there. I don’t move.
“Prince,” the healer says, “Would you mind going to get a bowl of cool water? Not too cold, but not warm or hot. I have the other materials with me, but the burn needs to soak in cool water before I can dress it.”
I rise. I know exactly the temperature the queen needs. I’ll never forget my first time. I was young. Six, maybe. It was days after Cora first waltzed into our doors. My hand balls into a fist whenever I think about her. When I think about how our lives changed after that.
I have no doubts that Father would have forced us to train without her. That he would have been ruthless in teaching us to become men. But Cora made it worse.
Cora showed Father there was another world for the taking.
That we had to become the monsters below to be their masters.
We were so young.
It’s been at least a year since I last saw that bitch. I hope she’s chained in some hole in the ground.
When I return with the bowl, I place it on the table in front of Mae and sit beside her. The healer gives her instructions to place the burn in the water. Her spine bends as her hand slips into the water.
“You okay?”
“It feels a little better. Still hurts, but not as much.” She tilts her chin toward Marik. “You worried about him?”
Yes, I’m worried about him. I’m always worried about him. But not because he’s passed out on the couch. “Nah. He’ll be fine. It’s not the first time we’ve seen these things.”
I want to suck the words back in as soon as they’re out. Cambions are not a Woodland animal. But Mae doesn’t catch on.
“I’ve never heard of them,” she says, “I didn’t even know creatures like that existed in our world.”
“They don’t. Not really. They used to, centuries ago, but we killed them all.” And then Mother and Father welcomed them back. “They’re created and controlled by witches using dark magic.”
“How did you know about them?” she asks.
Mother, she is so fucking innocent.
“Part of my training.” Cambions, osseri, drabar, wraiths, Cursed, witches, mairdre, and a whole host of other things that would have her terrified to close her eyes at night.
“Thank you, Asmo. You came for me. I was so scared.” Her voice is a whisper, and I harden my heart against it.
“You would have been fine,” I say shortly. Because she would have. She would have figured it out. If she is who I think she is, she’s a fighter. And a powerful one at that.
“I’ve never been in a situation like that.
I thought I was going to die. I’ve been very blessed growing up the way that I did.
When that…when that thing turned, and I saw her eyes, I tried to get away, but she wouldn’t let go.
And the terror I felt…I’ve never felt that.
I froze. All I could think to do was scream.
I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you didn’t hear me and come.
” Her eyes turn glassy again, unshed tears pooling at the bottoms and threatening to spill across her white freckles.
And that’s all it takes for my heart to soften again.
Even if I hadn’t heard you, I would have felt you.
I cup her cheek in my head and stare into eyes crafted of honey.
“It’s okay to be scared, Mae. It’s okay to be terrified.
It’s what you do when you’re scared that counts, and you were brave in the face of fear.
You helped me save my brother. I should be thanking you, princess. ”
She doesn’t scowl at the nickname, even though it’s an insult. It’s meant to prick at her. Instead, a tear escapes, and before I can think better of it, I swipe it away.
“Sorry,” she says, blinking furiously. “I cry when I get frustrated, and I feel frustrated that I couldn’t protect myself.”
I scoff. “You can train for that. That’s the easy part. The hard part is moving forward when you’re terrified. You can’t train for that. That’s in here.” I tap the space over her heart. “That’s not something you can teach. You’ll be fine, Mae.”
“Thanks, Asmo,” she says, and I swear she leans into my hand on her cheek.
Fuck. I can’t help my smile. “Quit thanking me.”
“Mae!” someone shouts across the room.
I yank my hand away. Ivan and Koa stroll toward us. That fucking pussycat of a party boy.
“I’m fine,” Mae says placatingly, “I promise. Asmo saved me.”
Damn right I did. Good for nothing—
“Thanks, man. I’m sorry to hear about your brother. He’ll be okay?” Koa has the nerve to speak to me.
I stand and face him. “He’ll be fine. Where were you?” My voice is low, but I know he hears every word.
“Excuse me?” he asks.
“Didn’t this happen on your date? Where were you?”
“Asmo, he was passed out. It was the middle of the night when I left. This isn’t his fault,” Mae says cautiously.
“It doesn’t matter,” I snap at her. “He never should have fallen asleep with you. The fact that he could sleep deeply enough without waking up when you moved is enough to tell me that he’s not the one for you.”
“Asmo,” she says quietly, and it feels like a warning and a threat and I hate myself for how much I love it. “I am fully capable of deciding that for myself.”
But she’s not. If she chooses him, then she’s not fully capable of deciding anything. If she chooses anyone but me, then she’s wrong.
I take a step toward her. She doesn’t back down.
“Does it not bother you that he didn’t wake up when you left?
That he had no clue you were gone? You’re supposed to be the most precious thing to him, the only important thing to him.
Yet he didn’t stir when you left the safety of his side?
” Fire, black and hot and writhing, burns through me.
“Hey, man—” Koa starts, but he shuts up when I whirl back to him.
Mae’s hand closes around my forearm. I turn back, and the anger subsides. As much as she pushes me, I won’t—I can’t—I take a breath.
“I am a smart and capable female. If I want your opinion on how I should feel about something or someone, I will ask you. Until then, that is enough.” Her voice is quiet, but firm.
I run a hand through my hair. I don’t feel like fighting her on this. She’s not mine to fight for. Yes, she is. “Fine. Whatever.” Before I leave, I pause at the doorway and turn back to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mae.”